Carbon Copy
by SierraSilver
Summary: It was just an order. Just an order from her sister to get back a tiny bottle of poison. It couldn't possibly be anything more, could it? I don't own the characters.


_"What he doesn't know won't hurt him."_

It was wrong. She knew it was wrong. Dahlia probably knew it was wrong too, but that had never stopped her before. Either she was ignoring the sick feeling, was used to it, or had never felt it in the first place.

Iris wished, for the millionth time, that she could do more than just LOOK like her twin.

_"What he doesn't know won't hurt him."_

Perhaps it might not hurt him, but it definitely hurt her. If it had been a practical joke, two identical women switching places for a few giggles and memories, it would have been silly.

This was no practical joke. Instead, it was practically…accessory to murder. Iris was helping a murderer get away with a crime. Her sister. A murderer.

_"What he doesn't know won't hurt him."_

In a few moments, she would know who 'HE' was. Hopefully not as sweet and naïve as she expected. That would make her unwanted mission ridiculously more difficult. And more unwanted.

It was really quite unfortunate that Dahlia was on house arrest and could not solve this particular problem, among the many she'd accumulated. Another problem to be left to Iris. Because Iris would ALWAYS help, no matter how wrong it seemed.

But she didn't like to think of her OR Dahlia in that way.

Because truly, Dahlia was everything she wanted to be; smart and strong and independent, never hesitating, unbound by fear of wrong-doing, as her actions were always justified. She always knew what to do, how to do it. And Iris didn't. All SHE could do was tag-along, hoping that if she tried hard enough, her sister would forgive her, induct her into her elite clique, whose only current member was Dahlia herself.

And so, when the phone call had arrived, Iris couldn't help but feel excitement, to hear her sister treating her like an equal. But she also couldn't help but feel guilt. Because not only was she lying to a stranger, but the message also made her feel like a coward. Maybe if she had just…gotten Dahlia to live at Hazakura, neither would be roped up in this. Instead, the nun had left her spirit to be extinguished in the draining environment of the Hawthorne family, forced to suffer while a carbon copy of her lived calmly and quietly; the lucky one.

But maybe it was Dahlia's experiences that had turned her into Iris' role model. Maybe if their positions had been switched, Iris would be the smart, strong one.

Somehow, that was impossible to imagine. Dahlia would always be the hero. Maybe a darker kind of hero as it would appear to outsiders, but a hero to her sister nonetheless. And as for that sister…she was weak. Useless. A traitor.

And she wouldn't forgive herself.

--

She thought that she could see him, making his way around park benches, past picnicking families, searching for her, or well…for a girl who looked like her. She could see the sweatshirt with the 'P' on it, another promising sign…which just so happened to kill her hopes that maybe he'd forgotten. She was a coward, with her sister, and with this stranger.

'Phoenix Wright's' eyes locked onto her, and, as he closed in at her location, she felt smaller and smaller until she was sure that she could fit into one of the storm drains and hide away. But she wasn't small. And he was standing in front of her, allowing her to get a good first look at him, if she wanted one. But as his eyes glazed over, she was staring at the little tiny bottle on the string around his neck. It was sick.

"Um…hi…Dahlia?"

Why this was a question, she was never sure. Iris hadn't had much experience with men, she WAS a nun, and never had anyone seemed so nervous in front of her. And suddenly, she was overcome with a wave of guilt. She needed to keep this lovestruck boy safe. And to do that, she needed-

"Please give it back…"

Was it truly her who had just spoken? Or was it her conscience? Or Dahlia's voice inside her head, forcing its way out?

Either way, he was suddenly laughing. A self-conscious laugh, but…he thought she was joking. Or that she was speaking metaphorically, a shy little girl asking for her heart back. It was sweet.

If only she could enjoy it.

Abruptly, he stopped laughing, and began to blush as she stared. He was embarrassed.

And suddenly, she was too.

"So…um…" he paused, searching for words, "How are you?"

How are you?

Sister Bikini used to ask her that. But Dahlia….Dahlia never had. Dahlia didn't care, wasn't constricted by other people's feelings. She was who she was, and no one, no one could change that.

"…Okay…thank you for asking…"

That's what she always answered. No point in changing it now.

"?" She could barely understand this jumbled sentence, but stood anyway, scanning the pathway until her eyes finally came back to him.

And so they walked, side by side, Phoenix taking the opportunity to hold her hand, which, although awkward, for some reason…she felt safe.

Until a skateboard shot out lightning-fast before them, and the obnoxious screams chased each other past her ears. And she noticed that the only reason she hadn't been run over was because of the hands that had pulled her out of the way, and were still holding her now, as her breathing quickened.

"Are you alright?"

Today was going to be a long day.

--

Or maybe it wouldn't be nearly as long as she'd expected. Despite his original shyness…or embarrassment, he was actually quite talkative, overflowing with tales of college classes and annoying roommates and childhood friends. The forces that had shaped his pathway through life, leading him to her, or well, to Dahlia.

And she realized that everything was a set of fragile coincidences and what-ifs. Simple decisions like sleeping in an extra five minutes seemed trivial, but if he hadn't, he wouldn't have run into Dahlia, the necklace wouldn't have changed hands, and nothing, nothing would be the same. Ever again.

And while realizing this, she had been nodding, smiling, and…enjoying herself. In her fantasy world, she wished to be this person's friend.

But everything, everything was a mission. Business. She had a duty to fulfill to her sister, and she couldn't let herself become attached to a piece of the wind. Because everything was blowing away.

Fast.

Sitting on a park bench, far both physically and mentally from where they'd began; Iris noticed that her companion seemed to be exhausted. His eyes closed and opened slowly as he leaned backward, and she couldn't help but watch as he fell asleep, as though oblivious to the shouts and laughter around him.

He seemed peaceful, and Iris wasn't quite sure what to make of it. She almost wanted to stay watching him, to join in that peacefulness, and feel for a moment like she truly belonged.

But there was a word, a name that stopped her from doing so.

Dahlia.

_"It's so easy even someone like YOU could do it…just get that necklace back, and then this will all be over…"_

Iris's eyes locked onto the bottle, realizing that this…would be considered the 'perfect opportunity'.

_"What do you mean you don't THINK you can do it? Are you really that weak? Or simply a coward…?"_

It was painfully simple. All she had to do was reach for the clasp…her fingers moved on their own, pulsing with the energy that came from Dahlia's echoing words. She was closer…closer…

"…You can't have your heart back THAT easily…" his voice was teasing, and she felt her face turn an unnatural shade.

And if she had been a little more careful, moved a little quicker, maybe she could be running home now, necklace in tow, the thought of her sister's gratefulness on her mind.

The simple decision that would forever change the course of her life. It was another what-if.

And in the same fantasy world in which she entertained the possibility of becoming this person's friend, a young, naïve-looking girl was being kissed on the cheek by her boyfriend.

And for that moment, she escaped from Dahlia's voice. She was free.

"Ah! I have to go!"

He was staring at his watch, eyes wide, face red. She was running out of chances.

"Um…tomorrow? Do you want to…go out to eat or something?" He was speaking hurriedly, trying to get all the words out as though they were the last he would ever say.

"It's so easy even someone like YOU could do it…"

"Please give it back...?"

She had never seen someone smile like that before. She felt almost dizzy just watching his expression.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Dahlia…"

And with that, he was gone. As were her hopes of satisfying her sister.

But strangely enough, she was happy. And perhaps it was because tomorrow, she was going on a date.

With her boyfriend, Phoenix Wright.


End file.
